


Applesauce

by faierius



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Fluff, World of Ruin, character danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faierius/pseuds/faierius
Summary: Prompto makes a stupid, drunken bet that puts Ignis in danger.





	Applesauce

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpookyBubble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyBubble/gifts).



                “Aren’t you afraid, Iggy?”

                _Petrified._ “Not at all. I have complete faith in you.”

                “So…no pressure.” Scrubbing a hand through his tousled hair, Prompto blinked at Ignis. “I dunno, Iggy. This was a stupid idea.”

                “And if I had been there, you never would have agreed to it. But here we are.” Shifting his feet, Ignis frowned and removed his visor. Rubbing the scar disfiguring his left eye, he willed away the years-old ache that continued to torment him on bad days.

                “I can always back down. No shame in admitting defeat,” Prompto said with a humorless laugh. A common laugh, nowadays.

                “In this case, we cannot _afford_ defeat. Quite literally.”

                Prompto’s boots crunched on gravel as he crossed the small space. A gentle hand touched Ignis’ cheek, sliding back to cup his face. A calloused thumb brushed over the scar on his bottom lip. Ignis closed his unseeing eyes and leaned into the touch.

                “You didn’t have to volunteer for this, Ig’,” Prompto whispered, leaning his forehead against Ignis’ shoulder. Though he had grown some, he would always be too short to stand eye-to-eye with this beautiful man.

                “I’m aware. But even if by some freak accident you miss, I have the least to lose out of everyone here.”

                Prompto sighed heavily, closing his free hand around one of Ignis’ suspenders. “Please don’t say that. With everything else going on, I don’t think I could live with a broken heart as well.”

                “I don’t want to hurt you, Love, but that is the reality of the situation. A blind man doesn’t contribute much, I’m afraid.”

                “Don’t say that! I’ve seen the progress you’ve made. In just five years, you’ve done so much!”

                Ignis chuckled. “A pep talk for another day, dear,” he told Prompto, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s clear up your debts for now, shall we?”

                “Again, I am so sorry about this.”

                “Then don’t miss.”

                Prompto put his hand behind Ignis’ head and tugged him down for a proper kiss. Releasing the man, he walked back across the space.

                “You know the deal, Argentum. Pay up, or hit the targets,” growled the rough-around-the-edges Hunter he had been drinking with all night.

                Hours of imbibing kept him tipsy, but the prospect of being the potential murderer of his long-time boyfriend helped sober him up.

                “Put the targets up, then,” Prompto growled back. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he pulled his pistol from the holster at his hip. He watched them maneuver Ignis, place an apple in his mouth, one on top of his head, and had him hold another one behind his back on a flat palm.

                Prompto’s heart thumped hard in his chest. This would teach him not to drink excessively. Not to make stupid wagers. Not to inflate his own ego.

                “Time to put your money where your mouth is. Three targets, three rapid-fire shots. Show us the Quicksilver who never misses. Though on the bright side, even if you do, he’ll never see it coming!” The man roared with laughter as he joined the rest of the spectators. “Three, two, one, fire!”

                Fast fingers, a keen eye, and a heavy knot of terror countered the alcohol coursing through his system. He lifted his gun and pulled the trigger three times. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ Three bullets, three exploded apples, and one whole, slightly sticky, boyfriend.

                “Holy shit,” the Hunter breathed.

                “How ‘bout them apples!” Prompto joked, holstering his weapon. “You okay, Ig’?”

                “I appear to be in one piece,” the man answered, his voice impressively steady as he dropped the apple that had been in his mouth to the ground.

                “Satisfied, pal? Am I _fit_ to help protect the compound?”

                “Yeah, man. That’s some serious skill. I’ll see you at the gate tomorrow.”

                Letting the guy take care of the spectators, Prompto hurried to Ignis’ side. He wrapped his arms around the man and captured his lips in a kiss.

                “Gods, I am so, so sorry you had to get pulled into this.”

                “Perhaps now you’ll realize you have no need to prove yourself,” Ignis sighed.

                “No more petty competitive bullshit for me. Promise.”

                “And no more drinking with bullheaded Hunters.”

                “After this, I’m pretty sure I won’t drink again till Talcott’s eighteenth.”

                Smirking, Ignis kissed the man again.

                “You taste like smoky applesauce,” chuckled Prompto.

                “Let’s return to our room, shall we? I could use some help washing the apple from my hair.  Then perhaps a massage to relieve some of my adrenaline inspired tension.”

                “After putting you through that, I’ll do anything you ask, babe.”

                “Well, in that case…”


End file.
